Dirty Shot
by Kuroneko Hikage
Summary: "If you think I'll give myself so easily to you, think again! Work for your victory!" IchiHitsu. One-Shot


Title: A Dirty Shot  
Author: Me  
Rating: M  
Pairing: IchiHitsu (ByaRen)  
Warnings: Language, Violence, Shmex, PWP.  
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. (I seriously love this man)  
Summary: "If you think I'll give myself so easily to you, think again! Work for your victory!"

AN: Please enjoy! -Bows-

There was a clear sky tonight, the perfectly painted picture of a moon and randomly dotted stars, a view easy for weak souls to fall asleep to. Even those who were night owls, assigned to the night shift for that very reason, would let their head fall back among the rooftops and alleys to admire those lovely, twinkling lights. They were so pretty, no one could help but make patterns with their eyes and fingers, shaping them into their own personal collection of recognizable characters and figures. The moon was merely a crescent, just a sliver of light, but it sliced through the night as bright as the Cheshire cat's mischievous grin, up to nothing good in order to satisfy its own amusement. A few fires were burning at doorways and desks as midnight approached, the late-night and early-morning seated ranks trying to catch up with any leftover work, but the flames created a calm and comforting glow that would easily lullaby tired and reddened eyes of brave men into submitting to unconsciousness.

Toshiro Hitsugaya was one of those rare few who did not succumb to that alluring scenery. To him, the moon was a whore, propositioning itself to every walking being in Seireitei like a bitch in heat, drugging them until they were nothing more than a snoring, drooling ball snuggling into whatever surface they were curled up on, and making off with their stolen awareness so all that remained were dreams, nightmares, and random happenstances that did not make a clear transition from the subconscious to the waking world. He regarded himself immune to the seduction of that dream(or dreamless)-inducing, drug-dealing moon, considering his current situation as an insomniac was going on three nights in a row.

Practical thoughts infused his insomnia, keeping his mind on a steady treadmill with the paperwork from both his division and the ninth. It was bad enough that Matsumoto was still drinking and sobbing herself to sleep every night because of Ichimaru's betrayal to Soul Society, taking it as a personal attack on her, then she had to go and bring Izuru, Hisagi and Momo in on those nights to "blow off steam" and "blow off captains" as she had so eloquently shouted in his ear one morning afterwards. Emotions tensed the veins in his head with angry throbbing, his chest skipped heartbeats with dubiety, and his muscles corded tightly with the urge to violently let off some steam of his own. His memories made him shiver in disgust, as if he was going to catch a virus just from remembering the illusory "happy" experiences with those traitors. He could already feel his breath constrict to a near close as the panic seeped into his skin. He needed to get out of this office, away from his desk, and away from thinking about things that he did not have the power to change. His subordinates were so down in the dumps, it was hanging like a dark cloud in their wake, and it was choking the life out of him.

He sighed, working out a kink in his neck as he lifted himself out of his uncomfortable chair, fingers attacking the knot with hard, aggressive kneading to ease away the stiffness. There were still several stacks of papers to shift through, but that was better than this morning, when he'd been greeted with the numerous, voluminous stacks surrounding his work space and towering against the back wall. With Hisagi and Momo out of commission, and Rangiku on a wailing rampage, there has been a huge drop in morality and a steep incline in paperwork from all three of their divisions, which had been dumped on him. At least Izuru still somewhat had his head about him, Toshiro was not doing his division's paperwork if he allowed himself to be dragged down by his fellow betrayed lieutenants.

A walk. A run. It didn't matter what, his body was screaming for the need to do more than just stand there twiddling his thumbs. He left the confining space of his office at a quick pace, not bothering to acknowledge the guards coming by on their night shift. The brisk clip of his gait intensified as he rounded the corner onto an empty street that held no fires or people, his legs springing off the ground with more energy than he thought from being cramped up behind a desk all day, and he barely made it a few more streets before he couldn't take it anymore. Adrenaline spiked every single blood vessel in his body as he began jumping from rooftop to rooftop, crossing both sky and ground with shunpo, and overall went crazily all over the place to burn himself out so he could possibly get a few winks of sleep before the sun rose again... which was in three hours. Fat chance.

After making tracks halfway across the Seireitei, his concentration was cut short when a familiar reiatsu shot through his senses, causing him to misstep a jump. He crouched on the roof to take control of his balance, annoyed. Kurosaki had no sense of restraint over the constant outflow of his energy, and it was distracting. Having nothing better to do other than to waste the remaining hours of night away, he folded his hands inside the opposite sleeves of his hakama before using shunpo to land gracefully on the ground. He only needed to take a few steps to reach the clearing where he felt Ichigo Kurosaki's presence the strongest.

The substitute was standing in the middle of a large court, Zangetsu unsheathed from its wrap and held in confidence, off to the side and pointed toward the floor in neither an offensive or defensive stance. Across from him... Toshiro lifted an eyebrow as Abarai Renji lifted himself off of the floor with great effort, a cloud of dust blowing away to reveal the damaged area around him. The redhead had been knocked so hard into the ground, a hole as three times the size of his body surrounded him, Zabimaru in its Shikai state and a little banged up.

"Damn you! Why are you so freakishly strong?"

Ichigo sighed, resting the weight if his sword across his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with me. Blame yourself for being so weak. I was hoping all those Bankai training sessions with Byakuya would make you stronger all around, but you've only improved a tiny bit. What do you guys do, then? Have tea and sweets?"

Renji's face flushed brightly as he leaned forward, pointing his sword at the other redhead. "I'll have you know that we keep things perfectly professional during our training sessions! Bya-I mean, Kuchiki-taichou is a skilled warrior and his skills are invaluable to Soul Society! Learning from him is an honor!"

Waiting for Renji to finish his rant, he shrugged. "Whatever. Are you ready to go again, or have you had enough of getting your ass beaten four times in a row?"

The lieutenant hunched over, letting his sword shrink back into its normal, sealed appearance. "No, I think you've managed to thoroughly kick my ass into submission. I'm not like Zaraki-taichou to try and continue when it's pointless." He sheathed his sword, stretching until he winced and started rubbing at his lower back. "I think I'm going to go take a bath. My back is killing me."

Ichigo gave him a little wave, please smile splitting his lips. "Don't keep Bya-I mean Kuchiki-taichou waiting!"

The blush, which had been slowly ebbing away, came back in full force. "You Damn Strawberry-"

Toshiro decided it was time to intervene, stepping loudly out of the shadowed space by the wall and into full view. "Enough, children, or do I need to separate you?" He found himself tacked with two surprised glances. "What?"

Renji scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I didn't see you there, Hitsugaya-taichou."

He shrugged. "I didn't let you."

Kurosaki raised his hand in greeting, smile going a little softer. "Hey, Toshiro!"

The captain glared at the substitute, angry and annoyed at Ichigo's well-known lack of etiquette. "That's Hitsugaya-taichou! Stop addressing me so familiarly! I have a title! Use it!"

Kurosaki shrugged, taking a laid back stance as Renji bowed stiffly. "I apologize for his insolence. As always, he has no manners what-so-ever." Toshiro agreed, it was probably something they would never curb him of. "I will take my leave, now. Good evening, captain."

With a nod at Ichigo, the sixth division lieutenant excused himself and walked away. Toshiro silently stood there, watching him go until his image disappeared into the haze of night, where darkness overtook the moonlight, straight toward his squad's barracks. He would no doubt do as he said, take a bath and go to bed, but Kurosaki had a good point, too. Which bed would he go to? Abarai didn't deny the orange-top's claims, and Toshiro had to wonder if they were trying(miserably) to be discreet, or if they were just not commenting on that subject altogether, not caring what anyone thought or said about their personal life. If he was a betting captain, then he would go with the second option. Good thing he's not. He let things like gossip and rumors be Matsumoto's area of expertise.

"Oi, Toshiro." Ichigo's call was like grating nails on a chalkboard. Why couldn't the idiot include his title? Was it some sort of faulty wiring set in his brain? Didn't he have select hearing? Or was it just because he was a total moron who needed his ego deflated? "Wanna spar?"

Hitsugaya thought about that proposal, lowering his head and wondering if he really wanted to go a few rounds with the substitute. Aside from a few rare moments when they'd briefly clashed blades, they never went full out to see who was stronger. Now would be the perfect time to put that scenario to the test. Running and jumping all over Seireitei was not helping, or at least, it had only helped a little bit, until he stumbled upon the scene of Abarai's defeat. Now, with the opportunity to further exert his body, he had no choice. He would have to accept. Besides, a small part of him wanted to know just how Ichigo's powers stacked up to his own, ever since he saw him fight with Zaraki. The fighter in him was itching to get started.

He nodded, unfolding his arms as he turned to face the taller man. "I accept, Kurosaki."

Ichigo held up one finger. "First rule: only weapons in Shikai, no Bankai. Hand to hand is also allowed." He held up a second finger. "Second rule: no Kido. Sorry, but I have no grasp on that stuff. Being a captain, I'm sure you'll manage just fine with hakuda and zanjutsu." Toshiro nodded again, feeling anticipation well up as the the restrictions kept everything purely physical, but he had a rule of his own.

"If I win, you have to call me by my title."

His opponent smirked and pointed his sword at him. "And if I win, you have to call me Ichigo!"

"Deal."

"Deal."

Silence swept through the empty court, howling slightly as it hit pockets of wind shears across the vast space they occupied, ruffling their hair and robes. Toshiro's haori flapped behind him, and he would have removed it had they not been staring each other down like they were doing right this instant, both waiting for the other to make the first hint of a strike, or waiting for a drop in guard. Normally the barest of sounds, a foot sliding forwards in preparation for attack, ricocheted around the quiet setting, was the only warning before they both sprang into action. The Tenth Division Captain drew his sword in perfect timing to Ichigo's assault, effectively blocking the fatal swing of his huge sword.

Adrenalin was a firestorm inside his veins as they clashed and rebounded off each others metal several times, swiftly bringing their blades together in a quick series of differently angled blows before separating again to regain their stamina. Toshiro brought his blade with him a he jumped up, the chain and curved blade of his Shikai flowing loosely behind him, as the orange-top jumped high and brought his weapon down from over his head, meeting the captain in mid-air. They were still locked together as they slowly slid their way to the ground, struggling to overpower the other. Ichigo's muscles may have been bigger merely because of his height and build, but size was nothing when it concerned Toshiro, and he put a little more pressure on their swords, jamming them firmly against one another. Gaining some ground when Ichigo hesitated only slightly before leaning his own body into their stationary duel. Ichigo leaned over their crossed swords, grinning with mischief shining in his eyes.

"Nee, Toshiro?" He glared up at the redhead's familiar use of his name. "Let's raise the conditions of our agreement." Up the ante on their unspoken bet? He was interested. And what could he make Kurosaki even more humiliated about other than being defeated by a child and beating some manners into him? It was something that grasped his attention in a firm hold, and he boldly met Ichigo's gazed so close to his own.

"What conditions?"

That sly smirk bloomed into a smile of devious caliber to rival the devil himself, and Toshiro found himself flushing at the handsome display. Pernicious facades flaunting across his face so skillfully could doom women and men alike with one little wink or twitch of the lips. Shit, he could be one of those people if he didn't watch his step. He always did have an appreciation for how hot the orange-head was when he was fighting or smirking. He was unsure how Ichigo could turn from annoying to handsome in such a short amount of time, but he couldn't deny that he liked it, enough to play on it and see where it took him, anyway. But the real challenge to that would be if Ichigo liked him that very same way, with the same attraction and want to take it further and see where it gets them. Peering into those brown eyes, Toshiro couldn't come up with anything other than that inner devil; playful, evil and a thirst for something bloody and epic to happen, to satiate the burning lust licking at his skin like the flames from Hell, to win by melting every single stone-solid ice-wall protecting all of the white-haired captain's control. He shivered in delight, when those eyes flickered across the rest of his body.

"I think... I want more from you." His voice had deepened into the rough whispers that caressed his ear like a soft, velvet tongue.

He knew he was digging himself a fiery grave, that he shouldn't play along, but he had to. He ventured further into this feeling. "What do you want?"

Ichigo jerked his arms to one side, capturing Toshiro's sword under it as he swung down. Surprised at the sudden change in tactics, the substitute had caught him off guard, and now stood over him with no barriers in the way. Instantly, a large, calloused hand was buried into the back locks of his hair, pulling his face up to meet the other shinigami's eyes, their faces inches apart. With such force behind the action, Toshiro's hand flew out to grasp something to steady himself, finding that grip of reality physically and mentally in a fistful of the redhead's black robes.

"If I win, then I take control of you for the rest of the night, here, for anything I choose?" Those words were whispered against his lips, hot air dancing across his lips like silk.

"How about, if I win, I get to keep you for the rest of the night, in my room, doing anything and everything merely because I wish it?"

The breath was shaky, the words having just as much of an effect on him as his lids lowered to gaze wantonly at Toshiro's mouth. "Deal." Toshiro barely had any time to mutter the same before Ichigo pressed their lips together in a teasing kiss, the skin barely even making contact as the heat between their bodies rose. It started out as a few pecks, mouths closed as they simply enjoyed the contact. It grew, though, with each passing second, there was a swipe of the tongue, a nip of the teeth, and before either of them could help themselves, their tongues were down each others throats, trying to vacuum out every drop of saliva to come play with the sloppy movements of their lips.

When they broke apart from their tryst, it took a few minutes for them to realize they were supposed to be fighting, a form of foreplay that would lead up to the physical pleasure, and make it worth the wait. Toshiro was the first to come to this clarification, and with a wicked grin of his own, turning the surprise right back onto the orange-top, he let go of his hakama and gave a nasty blow to Ichigo's cheek.

"Shit!" Ichigo stood up almost immediately after being thrown into the wall. It didn't hurt much, just a few scratches on his back, and he quickly regained his focus on the opponent, whom was smirking at him from across their chosen sparring grounds. Toshiro stood there, his sword in one hand, and the chain that connected it to the ever-present crescent blade in the other, lazily whirring it beside him, ready to throw it if need be. The look on his face was cold, like the element of his Zanpakuto. His stance was rigid, waiting, ready to strike an offensive attack, or to leap back into a defensive block. Ichigo could almost see the tensing of his muscles under his Shihakusho.

Toshiro narrowed his eyes, trying to determine what was to come next and keep his mind from straying to that delicious bruise on Kurosaki's jaw where he'd punched him with enough force to throw him across the courtyard. They had both been unable to sleep tonight, unable to work, their minds preoccupied and bodies stressed, or at least that is what he came to know from stumbling onto the scene with him and Abarai. No kido, no bankai, and since Ichigo's sword was in a constant state of Shikai, Toshiro had been allowed to release his own, even tough he rarely fought with it. This fight was purely based on strength and intelligence, both of which they had copious amounts.

Their blades clashed, the sound ringing out at odd intervals with the pressure of each blow and block, as they both attacked and defended. Their forms came into contact as they threw each other around their battleground, private under the cloak of night, grappling, punching, kicking and petting. Yes, there were times when inappropriate touching was unavoidable, like Ichigo's hand on the back of Toshiro's thigh when he attempted to trip him out of a sword lock, or Toshiro kneeing him in the groin, not enough to hurt, but with enough solid force and just the slightest bit of movement during that contact that turned Ichigo on, and he had to bite back a moan at the pleasurable friction against his hardening cock. The fight was getting to them both, on all levels, especially sexual.

At some point, both of them lost their swords, Toshiro vaguely remembered Kurosaki pulling it out of his hands via the chain when he'd wrapped it around his arm. He retaliated by dislodging Zangetsu with a powerful, well-aimed kick to the strawberry's head(which had been blocked), and then a kick to his open, unguarded wrist from a difficult and odd angle. After that, they both relied on their hakuda, not bothering to pick their swords back up. Even though it wasn't his forte, the captain held his own against the skill Ichigo's had since childhood. How could he be a captain and not be able to do at least this much? All heads of all thirteen divisions had to be well-rounded in all types of fighting, or so Toshiro believed. After the academy days, he worked on his zanjutsu day after day. It still suffered, but he could walk around proud to know that it wasn't weak anymore, that he could effectively knock out any member from his squad, or any seat from other squads third and below. Actually, Ikkaku and Yumichika took an hour to lose consciousness to him, but those were minor details.

Breathing as if the wind had been expunged from their lungs and sweating enough to fill a hot spring in the fourth division barracks, they continued to beat each other up, kicking with fast-swinging feet, grabbing limbs and attempting failed and recovered throws, wrestling in locked arms and legs. Toshiro was a little worse off than his partner, but that was something he expected considering Ichigo's physique. But where he lacked power, he made up for it in his mobility and speed, adequately dodging most of his half-hearted attacks, and delivering a few punches of his own in rapid succession. He came from a low squat on the ground, from on top in the air, behind him, anything that wasn't head-on, recognizing that it was Ichigo's usual style. And it worked out, he was able to wear him down for a while with this tactic, Ichigo grumbling as he failed to catch him, turning this way and that to try and figure out his next move.

Terribly unfortunate, though, that Toshiro forgot the substitute had an uncanny ability to memorize attack patterns and fight like a genius himself, if he wanted to. Years of fighting bullies, gangs and his father(that one wasn't much of a challenge compared to the others) had given him experience and sharpened his mind. So when he once again disappeared from above Kurosaki and appeared right behind him to give a hard knee to his head, he was surprised into stillness when Ichigo turned around and caught him, astutely canceling out the attack... with one hand.

Ichigo grinned. "Hi." He then proceeded to grab onto the small captain's foot and tossed him into the wall, the very same one he'd been punched into, a few feet away from that exact spot. His back made contact with the wall, through the wall, and into the next, creating a large dent in the cement, rubble piling on the floor. _Ouch_, he thought, attempting to climb out of the human-shaped hole, trying to rub the pain out of his head. It was the first part of his body that made contact with the hard surface, for both walls. Shit, he was sure that he'd had the orange-top on that last move. _Tch, unpredictable as always_, he thought, cracking his back and arms. Time for a new strategy.

Not giving the dust a chance to settle, he used shunpo to hurry back out into the clearing, landing in a defensive stance near the point of where he last saw Kurosaki. He wasn't there. On high alert, he carefully glanced around the area, spotting him and his reiatsu near the other end, where his sword was. Oh, no you don't, he mentally growled, and his used shunpo once more to knock the blade away, kicking out with one foot and landing in a crouch in front of the redhead. It left him open for attack, but there was no way he was going to allow Kurosaki to recover his sword and fight him so unfairly.

Surprisingly, he hopped back and secured a defensive stance, a smirk on his face. "I was going to let you fight with your sword, but it you would rather we continued to fight like this, I'll gladly kick your ass."

"Over my dead body!"

"No, not dead. Dominated. Over your dominated body, because you are already dead, and as soon as I win, you'll be writhing on the floor screaming my name, in total submission."

Infuriated that he would think that Toshiro would so willingly let him win so easily, he forgot all about strategy, forced out the delightful way his words traveled in a pleasant tingle down his body and tightened like a know in his stomach. He flew forward, aimed a powerful punch to Ichigo's gut, hoping to force out an apology for those egotistical words. He got nowhere, Kurosaki's hand meeting his punch, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling him to the side, and the white-haired captain let a yelp escape as a hand tapped harshly at his ass.

"Bad Toshiro, you should know better than to attack me head on. Do I need to give you a spanking?" The bastard still held onto his wrist, and with a flick of the muscles in his arms, he had his entire front flush against a wall, both hands securely held behind the small of his back. "Don't act so prudish, Toshiro-taichou. It doesn't suit you."

That was an unexpected title, and he had to take a moment to figure out how he felt about it. He felt some relief that he used his title, but there was still that familiarity that pissed him off to no end. He decided he wasn't pleased with that nickname, and growled out to Kurosaki while trying his best to struggle. "I told you before, it's Hitsugaya-taichou! Let me go!"

A bored tone accompanied his response, as if he were examining his nails and patiently waiting for his tirade to end, while effortlessly keeping control over the young shinigami's body. "Nah, I don't think so. That wouldn't be any fun." Instead, he pushed him further into the wall, and Toshiro's struggling stopped as the erection he'd gotten over the course of their battle was pushed into the cold stone. His ranting was cut off by a moan as the painful friction shot through his nervous system in satisfying jolts of electricity. Ichigo smirked in triumph. "See? Your reaction to that was much more enjoyable."

If he had any sort of response ready in his head, which he didn't, he didn't get any time to speak it before Ichigo turned him around, moving his arms above his head and keeping his back against the wall. Looking at the substitute confirmed nothing but lust and want, attraction of the highest degree, and even though he couldn't see beyond the loose pants of his hakama, he knew, without a single doubt, there was an arousal there, straining to be free like his own, and angry at the lack of attention it wasn't getting. Every muscle of Ichigo's body was straining with need, it looked like, to accompany that erection, to use every ounce of their strength to mercilessly ram into him, slamming their hips together with enough force to bruise. Toshiro couldn't wait, the entire framework of bones quaking in anticipation.

Lips joined together, just as messy and as frenzied as before, tongues working to dip in opposing mouth, trying to get as much of the others taste into their own. Saliva escaped them, running freely down their chins as they busied themselves with hurried, frantic smooching. Ichigo was successful in bringing Toshiro's tongue fully into his mouth and sucking on the appendage with all his might, humming in pleasure as he felt more than heard the gasp from his captured victim. His muscled tensed as the pleasure pooled into his stomach, and slowly trickled lose into his awaiting cock. He didn't think it possible for him to get even harder than he already was, but this simple act proved him wrong. Fuck, did Toshiro even know what he was doing to him?

In need of air, he backed his head away, taking in deep gulps of the night, Toshiro doing much the same. Fascinated, he watched a thick string of saliva that still connected them slowly thinning, before parting completely even between them. Toshiro's face was flushed, eyes rolled back into his head in a world of ecstasy. Ichigo took a moment store that eye-candy into his memories for later. Right now, he wanted to screw him now more than ever. And damn if he was going to wait. He won this round, and there was nothing in the world, both the living and Soul Society, that was going to stop him from claiming his prize.

He fell backward, bringing Toshiro with him, and rolled over so that the "child" was firmly under him, legs wide enough to let him kneel between them, hands still above his head. The captain must have still been in a drugged-out state, because no biting words or struggles accompanied the change in their position. Either that, or he must have accepted defeat, which really wasn't like him. He figured the feisty short-shit would fight to the very end of their climax. He'd have to snap him out of it. With vicious thrust, he rubbed his clothed erection into Toshiro's, ripping a wanton moan from his throat, wordless and loud, echoing in the courtyard around them. He didn't care who came to investigate the noise, if anyone was around in the first place to do so at such a late/early hour, he would ignore any intrusions. He was comfortable enough with his body to give a good show to interested passersby, and Toshiro was so far gone with pleasure, he didn't seem to care about their chosen 'bedroom'.

"Come on, Toshiro. Am I too much for you to handle?" That seemed to snap him out of his own little world of bliss, because he glared down at the orange-top.

"You mother-fucking-"

"-Now, that won't do..." He grabbed hold of the fold of his shihakusho, keeping Toshiro held down by his wrists, his knees holding his flailing legs still. "You should just lay back and enjoy yourself. Still struggling already. You want it, don't you? You want me?"

"If you think I'll give myself so easily to you, think again! Work for your fucking victory, you bitch!"

Ichigo couldn't help the chuckle escape at Toshiro's sexy backtalk, however incorrect it was. Here he was writhing under his touch, and he had the nerve to call him a bitch? "You're hot when your angry..." He went in for another kiss, this one a lot rougher than the last since Toshiro decided to use his teeth rather than his lips. That turned him on just fine, and he used the distraction to open and shoulder off his own shihakusho, letting the fabric loosely hang around them in a black curtain until he grabbed it and flung it... somewhere.

Toshiro wasn't able to do much with every part of him captured, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from being as vicious as he could with what he had free, so he expected the tangy, coppery taste of blood when he gave a particularly hard bite on Kurosaki's upper lip. He grunted and pulled away, but didn't otherwise show any pain. He grinned when Ichigo let go of his hands, and with as much force and speed as he could, reached up and took him by surprise with a hit to his other, unharmed cheek, hard enough to leave a bruise to match the other one that was starting to show from the beginning of their battle. He used that moment to push the redhead off him, and made to straddle his waist, and caused Kurosaki's restrained cock to press into his clothed ass.

Taking note that those brown eyes momentarily lost their focus at this change of position, Toshiro grew a grin as wicked as Mephistopheles. He rocked his hips, pressing Ichigo's impressive size further into his buttocks. Ichigo, who'd lifted his head to... he instantly forgot, and slammed it back down as his hips rose up, tension filling his legs and torso at the mind-blowing friction. God, he felt like he was going to explode right then and there. He didn't care about foreplay anymore, it was all too much. He just needed some relief, as he was going to take it from the shorter man on top of him right now!

Vaguely aware that Toshiro had taken off his haori, and loosened his own hakama, there was no time for him to take it completely off before he was attacked again. One hand went to the tie of his pants, jerking it out of its knot, while the other grabbed Toshiro's head of snowy hair, pulling him off to the side. Getting up, the black cloth covering his lower half fell away, cold air blowing slightly against his hot skin. Ichigo allowed himself a shiver before, never having let his hair go, forced Toshiro to kneel before him, in between his legs as he leaned against the wall he had held Toshiro to previously.

Toshiro, having nothing else to balance him, grabbed hold of Ichigo's legs, nails digging into the hard muscles of his thighs. He glared at the orange-top, pretty sure what he wanted by their position and the look of complete dominance on his face. He expected nothing but the most ecstatic blowjob he would ever receive. Fine, he would blow him, but it was going to be too pleasurable for him to handle for too long. He knew many tricks in the book, and a few that weren't.

First, he leaned up and nuzzled the underside, nose buried in his balls as the rest of the length settled onto the rest of his face, resting in the crevice of one of his eyes and the tip passing his hairline. He breathed heavily onto those sensitive sacs, feeling a twitch in those thighs that he'd held captive in his hands, the hand in his hair tightening. Pleased at the amount of control Ichigo was using, he pressed further. His tongue darted out, the very tip of it teasing a soft trail from base to tip, barely touching the salty skin, which had grown wet with a prelude to the substance that Toshiro would make sure to come out later.

He played with the slit, his tongue digging deep into it with loving strokes, looking up into the scrunched up face of the recipient. Waiting until he was able to look at him again, Toshiro held his gaze as he grabbed hold of his base, flattening his tongue to lick the tip once more before covering it with his mouth and sucking harshly. Ichigo grunted again and again trying to keep his hand as still as he could as Toshiro suck and played with the head of his arousal. The damn brat was humming against him as well, in low, exotic groans that had his mind in a fuzzy haze of bliss. And then the worst possible thing he could do happened, he added his teeth, scrapping his head lightly as he pulled those velvety lips away, popping him out of his mouth, and the greedily sucking him back in before repeating that same process.

_Fuuuuuck_, he thought, closing his eyes once more. He wasn't going to last this long if Toshiro only kept to the very tip of his arousal, and that hand really needed to stop kneading his balls. He couldn't wait, and when Toshiro repeated his torture for the fourth time, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Twining both hands into that hair, he refused to let up when Toshiro made to back away again, keeping him in place. Toshiro growled, and Ichigo moaned with a little more volume, the vibration of his voice driving him absolutely crazy. He couldn't even recover from that, either, as Toshiro inched his lips further down his length, until he came into contact with the back of his throat. At first, Ichigo didn't think he would go through with it, and would simply alternate with using his tongue and voice to make him go breathless again. But as soon as he saw the crazy glint in his teal eyes, he had barely any time to curse before Toshiro popped his head past his gag reflex, what little of it there was, and now his head was squeezing into the rest of his throat, allowing Toshiro to slide into the sparse curls of his pubic hair.

This definitely was too much for him to handle. He didn't think that the captain would be so fucking good at this, and he briefly wondered where he'd learned to do this before chasing those thoughts out the proverbial window. There were many here in Soul Society taken so with Toshiro's beauty, of course the captain would not be so snobby as to dismiss every single offer he'd get. Most of them, but not all of them. It was just like himself. He had bedded his fair share of females and the occasional male, where most of his experience had come from, but he had to wonder, was this just going to be a one-night thing with Toshiro, or would he be opposed to actually forming a relationship? Ichigo had to admit, the prospect of getting to know the ice-wielder was tempting. To be able to crawl inside those icy walls and wrap his soul around his heart like a blanket left a sort of prideful feeling in his own heart. He would be proud to have Toshiro as a regular lover.

Toshiro swallowed and he forgot what he was thinking about, instead trying to focus on keeping his climax from exploding down the tight passage of that succulent throat. It felt good, really, really good, but if he didn't stop this now, he was going to break. Steeling his breath and preparing for the utter punishment of forcing himself out of such a delicious warmth, he pushed that head of white back, swiftly exiting the hotness that surrounded his length and into the cold air, which made him shiver all over. Saliva dribbled from his engorged member, and that thoroughly-ravished mouth was wide open, gasping for air. Spit dripped down his chin from their messy separation, making for an alluring picture, and he had to Take a few moments to catch his own breath to recover from his near-ejaculation, his grip on that spiky hair slipping free.

The shorter man stumbled back onto his butt, his knees unable to support him any longer. His throat hurt beyond belief, and he couldn't make a single sound for fear of ripping his vocal cords out. All he could do was breathing. It had been okay at first, it had felt good having Ichigo's flesh shoved down his throat, and he planned to take it even further than that, before Ichigo had roughly shoved him away. That had caused the most pain, but he would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on in the slightest.

Ichigo knelt, crawling up to where his lover sat and giving a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting Toshiro turn his head to properly connect their lips. The kiss was gentle, on the opposite side of the scale from earlier. He kept it slow, taking the time to really feel the pressure and taste of his skin. An apologetic lick was given to his upper lip, and for a moment, they shared something that wasn't feral and needy and vicious. Those wild urges didn't present themselves to the forefront of his mind until a few seconds after, eyes roaming over faces and bodies and lips. He pushed Toshiro back, until he was laying on his elbows, glaring at him for the sudden roughness when he had already given himself over to him. He ignored it though, and let his hands wander.

The excruciating pleasure shot up through his spine and out of his mouth in a wordless moan before he had a chance to intercept it. When those calloused fingers drifted lightly across his sensitive sides, dipping under his pants and into the junction between his leg and hip, dangerously close to something even more sensitive, the immense bliss he felt continued traveling down his quivering thighs and calves, ending with the curling of his toes. Toshiro's breathing was erratic, labored, and one-hundred percent caused by the man leaning over him, touching him, kissing his chest. The fight between them, physical and verbal, had wound his senses tight, and every nerve of his was on fire. But so did that last, almost loving kiss. He wanted more, yearned for it, and he almost let out a cry of frustration when Ichigo took his hands away.

"Well... I can't screw you with your clothes still on."

As soon as the white was loosened, Toshiro helped kick the pants off, and getting a bit irritated when Ichigo threw them in the general direction of the other clothes. That irritation was had distracted him long enough to Ichigo to spread open his legs, lifting one of them over his shoulder and one around his waste, giving him perfect access to the opening hidden underneath. He held his fingers up to Toshiro, and knowing already what to do, started licking at them, leaving trails of saliva behind to generously coat each digit. Ichigo forced himself to let the mental images of Toshiro preparing himself go, even though the sight of him doing so pouring more lust into his veins. _Ugh... Just say no_, he thought to himself, waving the porn scene in his head away before leaning over the small body, further creating more space between the globes of his ass to get to where he wanted. Toshiro may have had a small body, but it was fit, in the best possible shape a body of this size could be. He had muscles, he had chest, and he had an ass. It made him sick that someone else had even touched him. He could just imagine what this would have felt like if Toshiro had been a virgin...

He circled the orifice and gently nudge a finger in, pushing past the tight ring of muscle and burying it up to his knuckle. The boy grunted, but that was all, and it took no time at all for him to started shoving it in and out of him at a high speed. He took in the second finger in much the same fashion, though he could see those hips buck slightly at odd intervals, when he added a little twist to his thrusts. The third finger seemed to take him a little longer to adjust to, but he knew he was ready when he was lifting his hips almost to his face in order to get them to go deeper. He was ready for something larger and more satisfying to fill the needy space inside him.

Toshiro curled his legs around Ichigo's waist and shoulder, bunching his hands in his hair as the large man above him pushed against him, the building strain of his rock-hard presence was maddening. The jackass was taking his sweet time, though just to torture him or to make he didn't break him, he wasn't quite sure. But as soon as that slick popped onto him, passing his stretched entrance withe ease that made his back arch off the ground in both anticipation and an attempt to bury him a little deeper. One of those large, tanned hands forced his chest and abs back down, stilling his progression into him, which pretty much told the smaller man he waiting because of him, trying not to hurt him, being gentle. He decided to change that.

A small huff of annoyance was his only warning before he unhooked himself from around the other man's frame, only giving him a chance to give a slight, questioning tilt in his head before Toshiro kicked him off, sending him into a sprawled-out position on his back. He didn't give him any time to react, pinning his arms to the length of his side, sitting on his stomach, teasing the upright length with the curve of his ass, making sure to squirm a little so the hard flesh was nestled comfortably between his cheeks. Ichigo's expression was one of feral arousal, causing his captor to smirk.

"See what happens when you don't hurry? Now _I_ have to pick up your slack." He lifted himself onto his knees, keeping Kurosaki trapped beneath him, as he very slowly sought out the gigantic thing pressing into him from behind. Grabbing onto it, and seeing a little of the sanity in his victim's eyes disappear, Toshiro gave a quiet warning. "Let's speed things up."

A guttural moan escaped his captive as he lowered himself back onto the head, and when he felt ready, moved against him. It was shallow at first, just the head bobbing in and out of his loosened entrance, before he let himself go down a little further. He took longs strokes, lifting himself up until the tip was just peeking out of him, and the thrusting himself down halfway to the base, and repeating the process. Ichigo's moans were echoing out into the night, spurning the captain on to keep up with this intensity. He was all but happy to comply, sitting himself down onto him as far as he could, stretching himself with every ounce of his length as deep as he could, until he could sink all the way.

Settled in his lap, he paused, his hands splayed on the muscled stomach beneath him. He hadn't had sex in a few weeks, and this sensation, this blissful feeling of someone inside him, had been missed dearly. But Kurosaki was different, his length wasn't just big and long, Toshiro could feel the details that defined the substitute, himself. He could feel that head, buried so deeply into his ass, squeezed so tightly into him, it was a wonder that Kurosaki didn't lose it right now, because his face showed like it was going to. His arms were straining to be free, but with Toshiro's muscled legs and the added weight on his body, he remained immobilized, reduced to grunts and moans and cussing enough to make every single person in the Soul Society blush if they heard them. The well-toned body beneath him was heated and tensed hard enough for teal eyes to see the ripples in his abs, the chiseled definition in his chest, and the bulging ropes of control fighting in his legs.

Completely satiated with staying in this position for as long as he could, Toshiro waited until Ichigo's head came back down from heaven, which was taking way too long for his patience to stay that way. He took his legs off the forearms, freeing them from captivity, and they immediately went to smooth over the pale skin of Toshiro's ass, making the young captain shiver in delight as they trailed an invisible path, presumably where his cock was jammed inside. Playfully he slapped the chest in front of him, speaking harshly. "Oi, Kurosaki!" The teen's head snapped up, glaring at him. "Are you going to lay there like a drugged idiot for the rest of the night, or are you going to fuck me senseless? Because if you don't, I will!"

He was starting to get up, tensing the muscles in his pelvis as he inched his way off the orange-top's dick, and almost released it if two hands tightened around his waist, halting him from letting him go entirely, still managing to keep the tip in."Ride me..."

The request was murmured so quietly, he had to ask him to repeat what he just said. "I didn't quite catch that, bottom-boy." That smart-assed remark earned him a painful reprimand. The hands on his hips forced him down, sheathing his cock inside him once more in one, fast swoop. Toshiro's ass smacked against his balls as the tip of his penis brushed against a cluster of nerves which set his entire spine bowing backwards, his head flying even further up as the loudest, most wanton moan of the night filled the air in strangled vowels.

"I told you to ride me, to wiggle and bounce on me until your body gives out." He slapped one of his cheeks, making it jiggle and rippling up to twitch his own cock. He tried resisting, but Ichigo gave him another slap, telling him to hurry up. "Fuck yourself on my dick, Toshiro, and I'll give you a nice treat."

"It's... Hitsugaya... tai..." He couldn't even finish the breathy sentence as Ichigo slapped him again, this time on the other cheek.

"It's Toshiro. Now, move." He didn't have a choice, considering the fact that Kurosaki's hands were already helping his hips to do so. He wanted to feel that again, the agonizing pleasure he felt when Ichigo had slammed into him, he recreated that moment. He rose, almost to the point of withdrawing again, and then sank the throbbing mass back in, hitting that spot dead on. He gave another scream as he repeated it again and again, a little faster and harder each time.

Ichigo's hips rose to meet him, causing the thrusts to be even more brutal, their skins ramming onto each other as both he and Toshiro vigorously and seriously started to pick up their rhythm, his balls slapping against his butt, while both Toshiro's dick and balls slapped against his stomach, leaving that area raw and wet. Small hands rested on a toned chest, absently tweaking dusky nipples into erection. But this wasn't enough. As awesome as it was right now, neither of them could elate into climax just from this. Ichigo needed to be deeper into that tight heat, while Toshiro was near yelling in pure frustration and supreme ecstasy as his prostate was being abused with every stroke.

"Sh-shiiiiit, Kuro...s-saki..."

Ichigo wasn't any better off. "Call... me... I-ichi... go..."

"Ngh..." Toshiro couldn't form any words at all. He was too busy trying to find release, and failing. The substitute grabbed onto the smaller man's erection giving it a few strokes to distract Toshiro as he stopped mid-motion at the new feeling of being stroked and screwed at the same time. For a moment it felt too overwhelming. Taking advantage of the distraction, he sat up and rolled them over. His small lover snarled at the loss of his dick when it pulled out during the transition of their positions, but he didn't give a shit. He just grabbed onto the angry captain, pinning him on his back and raising his knees to his shoulders as he knelt over his exposed entrance.

"Let me hear you say it, Toshiro."

A growl. "Kurosaki..." He shook his head and nudged the inviting hole in front of him with a twitch on his hips, his erection teasing the ring of muscle as he dipped in and out of it. "Shit, just fuck me already!"

That was exactly what he wanted to hear, and with that admission and desperation in his voice, Ichigo didn't have to try hard to do just that. His hands held Toshiro's thighs up and apart as he plummeted that treasure trove in between them, the new angle giving him a more piercing depth to his thrusts. Toshiro was nearly screaming at the invasion, joining Ichigo's grunts and moans, a dizzying spell befalling the both of them as they were becoming closer than before.

Pale fingers pulled the redhead down for a searing kiss, sloppy, but one that was fully imbued with emotion. Ichigo wanted to do this again, wanted Toshiro again, and he could tell the feeling was returned in full. He pulled away, looking down into gorgeous teal eyes as heavy as his own. The heart-wrenching beauty beneath him, of a slim and toned body, was starting to lose control, his spasms putting various pressure around him, and in turn making him convulse. They were both so close, and he knew that he was going to release if Toshiro did, so he went about trying to find the best way to get his lover to orgasm first. He tried bites and licks on his chest, pressing his nails into potentially tender spots on his skin, and pumping his somewhat neglected arousal in time with his own.

The very last action won out, and Ichigo's name was shouted into the night as shorter man's pleasure crescendoed into the zenith of satisfaction, releasing onto his hand and on his own arched stomach. The spasms from his lover tripped a wire inside that orange head of his, and he only had to wait for a few seconds as a searing hot pressure built up to the point where it was too much to contain, and it burst into the body beneath him with an elongated moan, high in pitch and strained with Toshiro's name.

Both lay in a tangle of limbs, utterly spent and completely exhausted as they tried to catch their breaths. Toshiro was the first one to recover, tapping the other shinigami's shoulder to get him to look up from where his head had fallen to nuzzle the junction of his pillow's neck. "Come on, Kurosaki, we need to get up."

His head thudded down once more into his shoulder, groaning. "What happened to you calling me by my first name?"

Teal eyes rolled at the stupid question. "I was half out of my mind, I don't think it was a conscious decision." He poked his side. "The the sky is already starting to brighten, which means it's nearing the next shift in the guard. Not quite sure about you, but I would rather not explain myself to them on their first rounds why I'm laying here naked."

He grunted, the sound muffled as his mouth was covered by a skin. "Dun wanna... Too comfy... Five minutes, Ma..." Toshiro poked a slender finger sharply into his ribs, jerking him out of his half-sleepy state. "Okay! I see your point!"

With obvious effort, Kurosaki pulled himself to his knees, disentangling their bodies so that they were now two people. They were a mess, cover from head to foot in sweat, saliva and other ejaculatory excretions. Both of them had many welts and bruises, ranging from pink to deep purple, and his thigh had cuts from where Toshiro dug his nails into him. It was the most beautiful sight of his life.

They helped each other to their wobbling feet, knees buckling with the strength it took them to stay that way. Sore from their fighting and... other late-night activities, they had to rely on help from the other to get dressed enough to not get asked any questions, and made their way out of the area.

"We'll go to Division Four. They have a hot spring, so we can rest there. Unohana-taichou won't mind, she'll actually give us some privacy."

"Eh...?" Ichigo looked at the small captain besides him. "Why's that?"

He waved a dismissive hand in the air, as if it weren't all that important. "It's really because of the W.S.A. that they're there. They wanted something to personally enjoy, so she got the Captain-Commander to sign off on building a couple there under 'medical' use, as well as always keeping one of them private for Association meetings. People are granted use of them when they over-exert themselves, and that tends to include a large number of people as of late."

"Like us?" he leered.

The captain shrugged, adjusting his haori. "Perhaps Unohana likes you, I wouldn't be surprised if she started to let you in on certain privileges..."

Ichigo stopped, grabbing onto the sleeve next to him to make him turn around. "Wait. You mean... You would want to... again?"

Toshiro rolled his eyes at Ichigo's shyness in fully asking what was going to happen between them. He'd just gotten himself laid, here by a man he trusted and considered worthy enough to even touch him much less screw him, and he was having confidence issues over a simple question? He was going to have to curb him of those prudish habits.

Yanking his arm free and folding them under his sleeves, Toshiro scoffed and continued walking. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have let you take me in the first place." It took a moment, but after his stunned stillness, Ichigo came up to him, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Does that mean I'll get to hear you scream out my name again?"

Taking Ichigo's shihakusho into a fist, he pulled Ichigo down to him, looking him dead in the eyes in an intense stare. "Don't be so sure I'll be the only one screaming any names." The stunned face was absolutely blank, clouded over with the fantasies those words must've created inside that flamboyant head.

Pleased with his response, he took a moment to steal a quick peck from his lips before walking away. There will be more time for that later, in the hot spring.

~*Owari*~

AN: Yay! It's finished! Finally! XD Please tell me what you think! I haven't written lemons in quite a while, so this is good practice for me. Please comment your opinions! It helps me greatly! -Bows-


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